


Don't Abandon Me

by Xerox



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Cleithrophobia, Gen, Hazing, Unintentional Self Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-01
Updated: 2012-04-01
Packaged: 2017-11-02 21:44:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/373658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xerox/pseuds/Xerox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for this prompt at TWD-Kink Meme: </p>
<p>Cleithrophobia is the fear of being locked in an enclosed place, doesn't have to be small, just a locked in area in which you can't get out.</p>
<p>Rick's the only one who knows that Shane is Cleithrophobic. Flashbacks included of an incident where Rick finds out will get all of this OP's love. When something goes awry, post-Z Day and no one can get Shane out (from wherever the fuck he is), Rick has to try and keep him calm as they attempt to free him. Chaos ensues</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Abandon Me

Shane didn’t know what started it really, he’d been like this his whole life as he knew it. And he tried to keep it to himself as much as he could, really. It was fine as a kid, kids freaked over stupid shit all the time, but as a grown man? As a grown ass man it’s something he didn’t want, and he was ashamed to even know what the fuck it was.

He didn’t avoid a lot of things, he more just made sure he always had a way out. His eyes automatically jumping and checking that there were other ways out. And he was okay for the most part, because at the very least, there wasn’t many doors he couldn’t break through eventually.

Rick knew, of course Rick knew, Rick knew almost every fucking thing about him. Sometimes that pissed Shane off more than anything else the damned man did, but sometimes it just made him relieved that he didn’t have to go into the damn cellars with only the one enterance and exit. Because Rick just made up some reason why he didn’t need to go that way.

He felt like a damned coward every damned time, but Christ, just stepping into a place like that… it set his nerves right on edge and he’d swing first, ask fucking questions later and that type of nervousness didn’t leave him easy like.

So he worked around it, and in some ways the Walkers made it easier. As a police officer he sometimes couldn’t stop from going into an area he may not be able to get out of, and now. Well now sometimes it couldn’t be helped but most of the time it could be avoided. He wasn’t having to face up to it at least once a week.

And fuck it all, if Rick had been in his group he wouldn’t be in this fucking wanna be storm fucking cellar with no fucking way out. Rick would have gone in, or hell Glenn even. But it wouldn’t fucking be him here, with his chest tight and his hands shaking, and his eyes squeezed shut so fucking tight he was seeing stars. “Get me out of here!” he screamed through the metal doors. Fucking metal! If he ever found out who this fucking psychotic asshole who built this thing so that he couldn’t get out, he’d kill him twice because Christ the doors wouldn’t open.

They’d swung shut behind him, and he’d heard Glenn shout and then the fucking bang and his heart had started beating hard right at that minute, and then he couldn’t push them open and Glenn couldn’t pull them open and shit all went to hell.

-

Rick had known he didn’t like getting locked in places since they were kids, really. Rick had always kind of been observative like that. He hadn’t known how bad it was until they were rookies in the police department. It had been a prank gone wrong, not pulled by Rick. Cuz while Rick pulled pranks his were less about humiliation and had left everyone laughing even the one it was pulled on.

They hadn’t been partnered together yet, both were still with their training officers and there was two more rookies plus the handful of run of the garden cops. They’d been dealing with the hazing for the last two weeks, and sometimes the work day was just hell but no one had gotten hurt yet. Mostly it was maybe a bruise and washing three uniforms a day. There was this one pussy rookie, who hadn’t made it, who had taken to just following the captain around.

Mike Jenson had told him that he needed to properly search the back seat of the squad car, that he’d hidden a weapon in there that he had to find. He’d shrugged and climbed on into that damned backseat, it was a valid lesson. Just last week pussy rookie had almost got stuck by a needle that had fallen out of someone’s pocket.

Out of the blue he’d heard the door shut behind him while he was full out in the damned backseat and he looked up just in time to see Rick’s wide eyes.

-

Shane was screaming, shouting things about getting him the fuck out right the fuck then, and he knew he shouldn’t. He knew in his head that he needed to be quiet, that he could attract walkers and then he’d never get the fuck out of here. But his mind caught on never and out and the panic just built right off of that.

He might have caught that Glenn was going to go get Rick and Daryl, but that could have been hopeful thinking on his part because fuck even if he stopped shouting he couldn’t hear anything over his damned heartbeat.

He was pretty much throwing himself at the doors now, taking steps back and trying to tackle it open, someone was out there telling him to cool his shit but they could fuck off because he needed out of this room. He needed out of there now or he wasn’t getting out and that fucking door was going to open.

He hit it with his shoulder, and he must have hit it wrong or his shoulder must’ve decided to call in because he felt the impact and then his shoulder was out and he was groaning on the ground. He must have shouted in pain loud enough for T-dog to hear him because he could briefly hear the other man ask him something but he didn’t pay it any attention. Instead he pushed himself up again, his shoulder hanging weird and went at the door again, this time with his other shoulder.

-

The panic hadn’t taken long to set in, he’d managed a few shouts to let him out, that it wasn’t a fucking joke and to let him the fuck out, and then everything went blank. All he knew was that he had to get out of there, and he had to do it now, not when those assholes decided they’d had their laughs.

At first he tried to shoulder it open, throwing all of his weight into the door, and if he’d been in his right mind he’d have known that wasn’t going to work. Probably wouldn’t work in a regular old car, let alone a fortified fucking squad car.

And when that finally got through his head, he got on his back and started kicking at the window and the cage blocking him from the driver’s side.

He didn’t hear the shouting, Rick hollering to get him out and the minutes of squabbling and arguing. Didn’t even fully recognize when the door behind him opened and he was pulled out onto the hot pavement.

One minute he was kicking frantically at the door window, he’d even made some headway and had cracked it, and the next he was staring at Rick’s face and being slapped in his own. “Get me out,” he whispered and there was enough his mind by then to realize he sounded fucking pathetic. Pleading and crying, and just fucking pathetic. “Get me out, Rick. I can’t… I need out man, I need!”

“Hey, you’re out brother.” Rick said softly, his voice almost calm and maybe Rick’s shaking was really Shane’s shaking, and that did more to start calming him down then anything. “You’re out, look around you, c’mon two of us can’t fit in that backseat.”

And he was nodding, licking his lips and nodding desperately because he wanted it to be true, it needed to be true because oh god, he couldn’t, he couldn’t, he couldn’t.

“That’s it, breathe, you got it.” Rick continued and Shane was calming down. He was still shaking, and still breathing hard, like he couldn’t catch his breath but he was thinking again. It wasn’t that damned mindless panic to get out.

And his father was right, he shouldn’t have gone to be a cop because he was too much of a coward. Couldn’t even handle being in the back seat of a squad car without crying like a little fucking baby.

-

It was Rick’s voice that finally cut through his blind panic this time as well, enough to make him stop and feel the pain in his shoulders, the damn near blinding pain in his right one. And oh fuck, he’d dislocated the fucker, and he was going to kill himself trying to get out if he didn’t get the fuck out right now.

“Rick, man, Rick you gotta get me out!” He cried out desperately, licking his lips and trying to calm himself down farther because Rick knew how he was, knew he couldn’t… “I can’t get out, I can’t… you know I can’t, Rick. Brother I need out, you gotta get me out of here.”

“I know, Shane, I know.” And Christ it was actually calm, so much calmer than that time with the squad car. “We’re going to get you out of there, you’re not locked in, the doors a little jammed though and we got to get it open.”

“Rick, get me out now.” He said between his teeth because this wasn’t helping, it wasn’t helping anymore. It was making it worse because Rick was telling him he wasn’t getting out now. “Get me out now!”

“Hey, hey Shane, c’mon calm down. We’re getting you out, but you need to be quiet, you gotta stop banging around, it’s… it’s not safe you could, you just need to be quiet. Whatever you need to do in there to keep quiet, you do it. You hear me?”

“Fuck!” Shane screamed, throwing himself at the door again like he hadn’t heard what Rick had said. And he had, he really had, but it’s like it stopped short somewhere and he couldn’t listen. All he could do was throw himself against that door until it opened. “Let me out!”

“Fuckin’ get him quiet!” he heard when he threw himself too hard against the door and found himself on his back, dizzy and unable to breath. “There’s walkers all over, ‘e’s attractin’ them like it’s goin’ out of style!”

“T-Dog, help me wedge this in here,” and that was Rick and there was a scraping sound but everything was getting fuzzy because he couldn’t fucking breathe in this damned room.

“He’s quiet, shit why’s he gone quiet?” T-dog asked and the scrapping sound had stopped and Shane wanted to fucking cry as he started scrabbling his feet against the ground because it didn’t matter that he was fucking quiet, they needed to get him out of here, he needed out.

“Shane? Shane,” Rick was calling but Shane couldn’t answer, he was going to stay in this room for the rest of his life and he couldn’t breathe and everything hurt, and please, please someone please let him the fuck out.

-

The panic had turned into tears as he turned himself over to hide himself from their eyes, and even Rick’s.

It was all over then.

“Hey, hey, it’s allright. Everyone’s gone,” Rick said and he was patting Shane’s shoulder awkwardly because they may be like brothers… but this went way beyond and it was humiliating. “Y-you’re out now, you’re okay.”

Shane nodded, wiping his face as stealthily as he could while he sat up, still not looking at Rick, instead looking toward the sun that was shining like it was laughing at him as well. “You can’t tell he th’captain man, if he finds out.” He said roughly, swallowing thickly, and pulling away angrily when Rick went to touch him. “Don’t fucking pity me,”

“I’ll try to keep it quiet but… Jamison was, he’s the one that pulled you out, and you cracked the window man.” Rick said softly, and Shane glanced behind him enough to see that he did, it looked like some lowlife on PCP had been in the back seat. He was screwed, they wouldn’t let him be a fucking cop like this. They couldn’t.

“Jamison’s probably in there telling the Captain exactly what he saw,” Shane sighed in disgust, at himself and at the whole situation. Finally, going to stand up and brush himself off and to prove he wasn’t a useless piece of crap because he fucking wasn’t. Fuck them all, locking him in there like that. Who could fucking blame him for freaking out a little? They’d kept Jimmy in the damned storage cabinet for half the god damned day. People died in cars in the fucking summers, they were a bunch of fucking idiots.

He didn’t make it far though, put weight on his foot and tumbled on down before Rick could catch him. His gasp was loud in his own ears, and suddenly there was this fucking aching pain in his foot that he hadn’t realized had been there, and he couldn’t stop the panicked thoughts about what the fuck had he done to himself.

“What’s wrong, what happened?” Rick was asking, sounding panicked and Shane looked up at him with his own fear filled eyes, but it was for a different fucking reason all together.

-

Shane blinked his eyes open, not sure where he was, just that he hurt and he was tired and the tingling feeling that something was wrong, that something was so very wrong.

“All this shits just gonna keep on breaking,” he heard and he turned his head toward the voice even though he couldn’t see much, just the vague outline of doors. “We need like a heavy duty crowbar or something.”

“Yeah,” and that was Rick right there. The other voice must’ve been T-Dog, but why were they out there and he was in here?

“Try this,” and that was Glenn… and that’s when it hit him. Where he was and what was going on.

“Oh fuck,” he whispered to himself, feeling desperate and tired and he wanted out. He needed out. “Oh fuck, get me out, get me out, let me out.”

He pushed himself up slowly, and pushed himself up against those doors, too tired and in too much pain to throw himself out it anymore. “Rick, Rick… y-you gotta get me out of here man, please.”

“Shane,” and it sounded like relief in Rick’s voice. “Shane, we are. We’re getting you out, but you have to keep quiet no matter what or you’ll attract the walkers back. You hear me?”

“I hear you,” he whispered and couldn’t help but bang his head on the door, curled up on the steps to it. “I can’t do this, man. I ‘can’t’.”

“Yes you can, I don’t wanna hear that shit.” And Rick’s voice was rough now, pissed and it made sense because Shane was being a fucking coward again here. He was being a baby about this, they wouldn’t leave him here, locked in this room to die. Rick wouldn’t do that to him. “Didn’t… what are you supposed to do if you start feeling like this? Remember?”

“That lady was fucking batshit,” he mumbled but swallowed and tried to remember. “That shit never worked man, it was bullshit that I said I did so I could keep my god damned job!” And he wished it worked, imagining himself in a god damned field, and not trapped. He never got the hang of it though, not once, he’d always go back to the fucking being trapped bit.

“I know that,” Rick said and he had the balls to fucking laugh at him, the fucking asshole. Like he didn’t have any stupid fucking phobias, like Shane didn’t have as much blackmail ammo on him as Rick had on him. “I know that, remember what she used to say about controlling your temper?”

“I don’t need to control my damned temper, never let it out on anyone who didn’t deserve it!” Shane argued, but he remembered boy did he remember. He’d bitched about it for weeks.

“What was it? Count to ten and think of your momma or something?” Rick asked, and there was more scraping noises but Rick sounded like he was having a good laugh out there.

“I don’t remember,” Shane growled in annoyance because he’d barely listened to the women, just did his time and got out of there. He didn’t have a fucking anger problem, he had a problem with someone telling him that his shit was something wrong with him. He didn’t like being locked in, that wasn’t wrong, his being a fucking baby about it was. She hadn’t agreed fully. “Like thinking of my momma would have helped, she was a damned hair trigger if there ever was one.”

“Ain’t that the truth, remember that homecoming game? I thought she was going to get arrested.”

“Fuck, you remember that?” And it had been a doozy, he’d taken a bad tackle and the ref hadn’t called it. That wasn’t going to stand in his momma’s book, not one ounce of it. “I didn’t live that down for weeks.”

“You always were a momma’s boy,” Rick said lightly and the scrapping noise was getting louder, and he could see something wiggling into the cracks between the doors.

“Damn straight,” he mumbled, watching that gap like it was the second coming. “And I ain’t ashamed of it.”

“Never were, brother, never were. I’m thinking that’s why you were so popular with the ladies. Didn’t even blush when she made you kiss her goodbye in front of everyone.”

Shane swallowed, and nodded because he hadn’t and it hadn’t been that he hadn’t been embarrassed as fuck but a mixture of his mother would have popped him on the back of his head and knowing he was man enough to kiss his own mother goodbye. “Rick, you gotta get me out of here.” He said desperately, pushing at the door with his good hand, “don’t you leave me in here.”

“I won’t,” and Rick sounded sure of it. Like there wasn’t a doubt.

-

Shane had made his way to the Captain’s office three days later, crutches and a cast on his foot and all. He’d kept his head high because he wasn’t about to let them think they’d actually broken him like they had that pussy ass rookie. The one that had quit the day before, that Rick had told him had told the whole locker room they were psychopaths and left, didn’t even come back to finish his shift.

The captain had looked at him, and Shane hadn’t been able to read anything from his face. The man had just stared at him for a few minutes before motioning him to sit down. And Shane would have stayed standing, just on principle, but his foot hurt and his armpits were killing him.

They’d had a long talk that had ended up with him having some mandatory counseling and pushing him back in his training program for awhile. He’d been pissed at the time, but it wasn’t like there was any other options. He’d broken his damned foot trying to kick out a squad car window, he was lucky he wasn’t getting the boot.

After training no one wanted to be partnered with him, and he wanted to throw punches when he was assigned to stick with his training officer for a little while longer. Rick was already done and over with his rookie status, had an actual partner and had been on the job for a couple of months before Shane was even cleared, and now he was still stuck with his training officer. It felt like his damned life went on a standstill.

Jamison didn’t seem to mind much, the first day he’d gotten back in that squad car to do his patrol he’d looked at Shane and asked him what had happened and no damned bullshit. Jamison had always reminded Shane of his football coach, and honestly he’d never been able to lie to either, so he’d bucked up and said he had more than a little issue with being locked in places. It shouldn’t be a problem.

That had been that. Rick had fucking excelled and within a year he was requesting to ride with Shane, who was being passed around like the school bicycle.

And really, that had been that.

-

He fell backwards when the door finally was forced open, and he looked up at the setting sun for a moment before he pushed himself up and scrambled through the doorway, swallowing and shaking at the adrenaline rush of being ‘out.’

He felt Rick’s hand at his shoulder, trying to help pull him out, but he couldn’t help the shout of pain and curling up against the pain.

“Good lord,” Daryl said from somewhere to his right. “You dislocated your damned shoulder.”

“Drop it,” both Shane and Rick growled at the same time. Shane was gritting his teeth and trying to sit up without using his arms, and trying to get away from that damned cellar at the same time. 

“Hey calm down, you’re gonna hurt yourself further.” Rick was saying, but if Rick didn’t shut up soon Shane was going to punch him, dislocated shoulder or not. “Just stay still, your out that’s all you need right now.”

Shane nodded anyways, unreasonable anger or not, because Rick was right. He was out, and his adrenaline rush was already fading and he felt himself swaying to the side. “I think I roughed myself up,” he mumbled and Rick snorted, a hand on his side holding him steady.

“Every dislocated your shoulder before?” Daryl asked, leaning in front of him, looking like he cared and like Shane was a fucking moron at the same time. Shane gave back his own ‘are you a moron’ look just as well. “Fine, don’t be a baby and keep your damned mouth shut.”

And Daryl was touching him and shoving the socket back into place and Shane was biting his lip and failing at holding in moan. He didn’t realize anything was going on until Daryl was using what looked like a sleeve to make a sling.

He swallowed thickly, and let his eyes look around blankly for a moment while he tried not to pass out or be sick. It still hurt, but not as bad as when his arm had been just hanging there like a useless clump of flesh. And Daryl, fucking Daryl Dixon, was pressing at his other shoulder and Shane couldn’t jerk away because Rick was holding him one way and the other way made him want to rip his whole shoulder off if it would stop that pain. “I’s good,” he said thickly, swallowing again before kicking at Daryl. “Stop messin’ with it.”

Daryl just shrugged and stood up, looking around before back down at him. “You owe me another shirt, you ain’t gonna get out of that.”

Shane just nodded blankly before he was being helped up by Rick and T-Dog. “You can have whatever shirt you want, as long as you shut the fuck up.” He finally mumbled once he got his feet under him, “lets just get out of here before the Walkers find us.”

And Daryl, the fuck, glanced at Rick before nodding.

The walk back to ‘camp’ was hell and Shane couldn’t tell you how he made it that last leg, but he made it to their circle of cars and RVs somehow and let himself be lead to the RV. He didn’t look at anything but his feet as he was lead, but he could hear the questions about what had happened and if he was okay, and he couldn’t stop the rush of humiliation from flooding him. All he wanted to do was get some sleep, get this damned day over with. Didn’t even need the RV, he’d be fine in the back of the car like he had been.

He didn’t want to deal with any of this until he’d gotten some sleep and got his head back on right all of the way. He didn’t want to deal with the same kinds of looks he’d gotten the last time anyone had found out, and he didn’t want to deal with the possibility of being deemed worthy of only staying at the camp.

If he had any kind of luck at all, Rick would deal with it all, and maybe the guys who had been there would understand in a way that was wrong, but worked for Shane. Wouldn’t blame him for thinking he might be trapped in that room.


End file.
